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In a culture that rewards flash over substance, Preze Pack is cutting through the noise with a record that bleeds truth. His new release, “ Focus (If I’m Wrong) ,” is more than a song—it’s a moment of clarity in the middle of chaos. Hailing from Neptune, New Jersey, and raised on the sounds of Lauryn Hill, Tupac, and Michael Jackson, Preze Pack is no stranger to storytelling. But this time, the story hits harder. It’s personal. Unfiltered. Necessary. With a flow sharpened by experience and lyrics laced with emotional grit, “Focus (If I’m Wrong)” confronts the quiet desperation that comes from grinding in silence. It’s a reflection of what it feels like to give your all and still feel invisible—to be the one everyone leans on, yet have no one check in when you’re slipping. The track paints that blurry line between resilience and collapse, between staying locked in and crashing out. But what makes this single stand out isn’t just the honesty—it’s the balance. Preze Pack doesn’t glorify the struggle; he humanizes it. He holds up a mirror to the moments we all try to outrun: doubt, burnout, the search for something to numb the noise. In his own words, “Desperation leads to mistakes,” but Focus is a reminder that awareness can be the first step back to yourself. Built on a haunting instrumental and verses that land like gut punches, the record’s impact is immediate. You feel it. And if you’ve ever been in that place where you’re pushing forward but barely hanging on—this one’s yours. Preze Pack hopes that listeners walk away understanding the deeper truth behind the hustle: that being a creative isn’t a choice, it’s a calling. And with that comes a weight most people never see. The fight to stay focused isn’t just about ambition—it’s about survival. But through discipline, authenticity, and unwavering love for the craft, Preze shows us that the way back is always within reach. In a rap scene hungry for realness, “Focus (If I’m Wrong)” is a rallying cry for every artist out there who’s fighting battles behind bars. Preze Pack isn’t just rapping—he’s revealing. And that vulnerability? That’s the real power. If you’re vibing with Preze Pack’s latest release, make sure to check out our feature on his previous single, 'Nick Foles,' right here . “Focus (If I’m Wrong)” dives into the emotional toll of staying strong when everything feels like it’s falling apart. Was there a specific moment or experience that sparked this song? My entire adult life, up to this point, has been defined by the sacrifices I’ve made in pursuit of something greater. Every single day I’m here, I push myself to grow and evolve. I take risks that most people shy away from, and I’ve learned to live, almost unapologetically, with the consequences of those choices. That being said, my early twenties were some of the most trying years of my life. I couldn’t find a job that aligned with who I am. I launched a business from scratch with no blueprint and no mentor, and that journey came with both high highs and painful lows. My mental health was in shambles because I never gave myself space to breathe. I was constantly grinding and constantly chasing. I was broke more often than not. I felt like I was letting down the people who believed in me. And on top of it all, my family, once so tight-knit, was unraveling in ways that weighed heavily on my spirit. So to answer the question, there wasn’t just one moment that sparked “Focus (If I’m Wrong).” It was a culmination, a slow build-up of heartbreak, frustration, and resilience. The song came from that boiling point, when holding it all in just wasn’t an option anymore. You talk about the difference between discipline and motivation—how has that mindset shaped your journey in music so far? Motivation is what gets you started. It’s the spark that lights the fire. It gets you out of bed with a purpose and gives meaning to the dream. But the truth is, motivation fades. There are days you don’t feel like writing, recording, networking, or even thinking about music at all. That’s where discipline comes in. Discipline is the difference between the people who are good and the ones who push past that initial spark to become great. It’s like training for anything. You hit the gym even when you’re tired. You put up extra shots when nobody’s watching because you want to be ready when your moment comes. I work on my craft every single day. Because of that, I know when the pressure is on, I can rise to the occasion. Creativity is strange. You don’t always feel inspired. But you have to push yourself to produce anyway, while still keeping it real. Sometimes that means switching things up, finding new ways to stay engaged, and still staying true to the art. Discipline in music also means being a student of the game. Whether it’s writing, listening, learning, or failing, anything that helps sharpen your skill set contributes to your 10,000 hours. As long as I’m growing or learning something, I’m good. That consistency, that hunger to evolve, is what keeps me grounded. Without discipline, I wouldn’t be able to release anything. Life can pull you in so many directions, and it’s easy to fall off. Discipline keeps me locked in. There’s a raw vulnerability in this track. As an artist who people look to for strength, how do you manage that pressure while still making space for your own healing? I’m a firm believer that not everyone needs to know every detail of what you’re going through. A lot of my healing happens within. When I speak on something in a track, it’s either something I’ve already overcome or something I’m in the process of working through. That reflection gives me the strength to show up without feeling insecure or exposed. To be honest, I don’t really feel pressure when it comes to vulnerability. I’m human, and I’m living a human experience. I don’t expect perfection from myself, and I don’t expect it from anyone else. What I do expect is honesty, from me to me first, and then from me to the world. I share what’s real because I know someone out there might be feeling the same thing. If I can be open and true to myself, maybe someone else can find a piece of their healing in that, too. At the end of the day, I want people to know that what they’re hearing is really me. No mask, no persona. This is the most authentic version of myself. You’ve grown up surrounded by music and legends, from Tupac to Lauryn Hill to Kendrick. How do those influences show up in this record specifically? This record is rooted in honesty. It’s me looking in the mirror and confronting something uncomfortable, something I can’t ignore. I feel like all the greatest artists, especially the ones who influenced me, have mastered the ability to take their lived experiences and transform them into something powerful and digestible. When I think of Dear Mama by Tupac, Ex-Factor by Lauryn Hill, or Sing About Me by Kendrick Lamar, there’s a common thread. It’s the rawness, the vulnerability, the ability to turn pain into poetry. That level of expression feels like a prerequisite for greatness. And for me, it doesn’t feel forced. I’m not trying to recreate what they did. The music just comes out this way. My soul feels a need to speak, and when it does, this is what it sounds like. What message would you give to other creatives out there who feel like they’re losing their focus or questioning their path? If being a creative is truly who you are, then you will always find your way back to it. If the love runs as deep as the love I feel for music, then nothing can stop it. You’ll think about it without trying. Ideas will come together naturally. You’ll live your life to a rhythm that is different from those who aren’t wired the same way. If you feel like you’re losing focus, remind yourself why you started in the first place. But also understand that the journey is rarely a straight line. There will be twists, setbacks, doubts, and delays. The only way the dream dies is if you quit. As long as you’re making progress and staying true to yourself, you’re already winning. It’s also important to live beyond your craft. Go have new experiences. Step outside the bubble. Sometimes, the best way to realign with your purpose is to step away and come back with a fresh perspective. Being a full human being is just as important, if not more, than any creative pursuit. Your mindset fuels your best work. So in closing, just keep pushing. You don’t need to have all the answers today. Just don’t stop.

Photo by Madzery Ma There’s a reason great musicians don’t just practice  — they listen . Whether you’re a vocalist trying to hit that harmony without fumbling, a guitarist decoding complex chord changes, or a producer training your ears to catch muddy mixes, ear training is the invisible skill that levels everything up. Luckily, in 2025, you don’t need a music degree or a cranky piano teacher to sharpen your ear. Just a phone, a few spare minutes a day, and the right app. These are the top ear training apps in 2025 — updated for today’s tech, designed for modern musicians, and built to help you stop guessing and start hearing like a pro. Tenuto If you’re an all-around musician, music student, or theory lover using iOS, Tenuto is the one app you’ll wish you had years ago. It's been a go-to for years — and for good reason. It delivers clean, customizable exercises in intervals, chords, scales, and more, all wrapped in a minimalist interface that feels smooth, not sterile. It’s a one-time purchase (no subscription headaches), and it’s as useful for sight-singing practice as it is for sharpening pitch recognition. Complete Music Reading Trainer Ideal for classical players, jazz musicians, and anyone brushing up on sight-reading, Complete Music Reading Trainer takes a gamified approach to reading and hearing music at the same time. Available on both iOS and Android, the app features hundreds of progressive challenges, testing your ears on pitch, rhythm, and melodic dictation while teaching you to interpret written notation fluidly. It’s especially popular among pianists and orchestral players who want more than just isolated ear drills — they want context. EarMaster If you're a serious music student, vocalist, or instrumentalist ready to take your aural skills to a new level, EarMaster is easily one of the most comprehensive tools on the market. Available across iOS, Android, macOS, and Windows, it includes everything from melodic dictation and rhythmic training to full jazz-specific modules. You can even connect your instrument or use a mic to respond in real time. The freemium model makes it accessible to beginners, while the pro subscription unlocks an absolute goldmine of training content. SoundGym For producers, mixing engineers, and beatmakers, SoundGym changes the game by focusing on the production  side of ear training — frequency detection, EQ adjustments, stereo imaging, and dynamics. It's web-based with mobile companions for both iOS and Android, and its sleek interface turns technical ear skills into bite-sized, addictive games. With a free basic tier and optional monthly subscription, it’s perfect for anyone trying to train their ears for the studio instead of the stage. Perfect Ear If you're a beginner, budget-conscious artist, or just want an intuitive and customizable training app, Perfect Ear is a standout. Available on both Android and iOS, this app covers the essentials — intervals, scales, chords, rhythm, and sight-singing — all without overwhelming you. Its offline capabilities are a bonus, and in 2025, its new AI-guided lesson plans have made it even more adaptive. Whether you’re learning your first major scale or fine-tuning your vocal control, this app is a no-brainer. Training Your Ear Is the Real Flex Photo by Artem Podrez You can play fast. You can sing loudly. But if you can’t hear  what’s happening in a track, on stage, or in your own mix, you’re missing the whole point. In 2025, ear training doesn’t have to be a dusty workbook and a stiff piano bench. These apps bring the process to your phone, your schedule, and your style. Whether you’re prepping for a conservatory audition, building beats in your bedroom, or trying to finally hear the difference between a minor sixth and a major seventh, the tools are here. Your ears are your greatest instrument. Time to train them like it.

Kendra Erika has never been one to shy away from the heat—and with her latest release, “ Dance In The Fire ,” she steps into the flames with grace, grit, and glitter. Already boasting five Billboard Top Ten dance hits under her belt, Erika solidifies her reign as a force in the dance-pop scene, delivering an electrifying new track that burns with intensity and unshakable empowerment. Co-written with 2024 Grammy winner Will Gitten and produced by two-time Grammy nominee Luigie “LUGO” Gonzalez, “Dance In The Fire” pulses with global energy, merging afro-house rhythms with shimmering pop hooks. From the jump, Erika’s commanding vocals ride the beat with conviction, channeling resilience, release, and raw emotion. It's the kind of track that doesn't just fill the room—it fills your chest, demanding movement and catharsis in the same breath. But what truly sets “Dance In The Fire” ablaze is its emotional undercurrent. Inspired by the wildfires that ravaged Erika’s Los Angeles community, the song flips devastation into determination. It’s a bold anthem for anyone wrestling with inner chaos, transforming turmoil into dance-floor liberation. “This song is about finding strength in the fire and emerging unstoppable,” Erika shares—and that sentiment echoes through every bar, beat, and breath of this high-voltage release. Visually, Erika turns up the heat even further. The official music video, directed by Turkish photographer and visual artist Tolga Katas, is a searing, cinematic dreamscape. Think desert goddesses, post-apocalyptic fantasy, and just a touch of Game of Thrones mystique. Erika commands the screen like a mythic queen of the flames—cape flying, eyes fierce, daring the viewer to rise with her. As she steps into a new era with Empire Distribution, “Dance In The Fire” feels like more than just a single—it’s a declaration. Kendra Erika isn’t just back—she’s blazing forward, trail marked in smoke and sequins. With club remixes on the horizon and performances lined up, this track is just the first flicker of what’s to come. Watch the throne, pop world—Kendra Erika is dancing straight through the fire and taking us with her. “Dance In The Fire” feels like both a personal triumph and a universal anthem—what specific moment or feeling first sparked the idea for this track? The latest fires in LA sparked both the personal and universal motive to write this one. The video has this stunning, almost mythological energy to it—what was the creative vision behind those visuals, and how involved were you in shaping that cinematic concept? The references I incorporated were from Game of Thrones, One Million Years B.C., and Dune. In all the videos I’ve done, I’ve had creative control over the vision and shaping the visuals. It’s been wonderful to work with Tolga on most of these videos, including “Dance In The Fire”, because he really understands and materializes the visions I delineate to him. It’s a great synergistic relationship. You’ve been a fixture on the dance charts, but this release feels especially raw and emotionally charged—how has your relationship with dance-pop evolved over the years? Naturally, with maturity and with experience, my sound has also evolved in that respect. Vulnerability is something that comes with age and with time, and also, the other abilities strengthen too, as far as vocally and lyrically. Working with Grammy-winning collaborators like Will Gitten and Luigie “LUGO” Gonzalez must have been electric—what did each of them bring to the table during the creative process? Luigie brought the track and the sound to the table, and then Will Gitten, Luigie, and I wrote the track. Will has this island-like eccentricity and this assertiveness, which took the song to that global level we were aiming for initially. You mentioned this song is about “emerging unstoppable”—what’s one lesson from your own journey through the flames that you hope listeners take with them after hearing this song? The last five years for me were challenging personally and professionally, which left some scars and put me in a position to almost cave. However, reminding myself and having good influences around me to build that fortitude back, and that sense of passion and fight, I really do feel that I’ve emerged unstoppable.

Photo by Monica Silvestre Indie music was never supposed to play by the rules. It was born in basements, backyards, Bandcamp pages, and DIY tours. It was about expression over perfection. Storytelling over strategy. Artists doing what felt true , not what would chart. But somewhere along the way, even the indie scene started handing out trophies. Today, independent musicians are gunning for spots on shortlists, chasing “Best Emerging Artist” titles, and writing bios that sound like Grammys were the goal all along. There are awards for everything now — regional, genre-specific, industry-led, fan-voted — and at first glance, they seem like a win for underdogs. Finally, recognition for those outside the machine. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: music awards, even in the indie world, might be doing more harm than good. The Pressure to Polish, Package, and Please Let’s start with the obvious. Awards demand criteria, judging panels, rules, submissions, and often, fees. And in the process, the music gets shaped to fit a mold. Suddenly, it’s not about what moves you—it’s about what sounds like it might  impress a panel. Songs become more polished. Risk-taking gets replaced by safe genre blends. Artists start writing for approval instead of truth. And the vibe quietly shifts from expression to strategy. You don’t need to look far to see it. That raw, gut-punch demo energy that made you love an artist’s early work? It starts to smooth out. The visuals get shinier. The press kit reads more like a pitch deck. All in pursuit of being “award-worthy.” It’s the same industrialization the mainstream suffered from, just wearing thrift store aesthetics and a vintage filter. Who Decides What’s “Best” in a Space That Was Never About Competing? The whole concept of awards implies hierarchy. Someone wins, someone loses, and someone’s music is officially more important than someone else’s—not based on impact, or cultural shift, or lived experience, but on a voting system. It reinforces the idea that art can be objectively measured. That your value as a creator is tied to whether you’ve got a badge, a plaque, or a media headline saying you’re “next up.” But indie music—real indie music—was always about the in-between. The voices that didn’t fit categories. The songs that didn’t need to win, because they already said something. When we crown one artist as “Best Independent Act,” what does that say to the hundreds of others experimenting in their bedrooms, building cult followings, or writing songs that make people cry, even if they never hit a PR checklist? Creativity doesn’t thrive in competition. It thrives in chaos, in freedom, in failure, and in rebellion. Awards turn all of that into a leaderboard. The Illusion of Success vs. the Reality of Impact For many artists, especially those trying to make a career out of their craft, awards feel like progress. Something to put in a pitch deck, a reason to get booked, a stamp of legitimacy in an industry that too often ignores what it doesn’t understand. And sure, awards can  offer a platform—exposure, maybe a grant, maybe a boost. But let’s not confuse exposure with impact, or visibility with value. Some of the most culture-shifting artists of the last decade have never won anything. Some of the most-streamed songs in the world were ignored by every award show. Meanwhile, award ceremonies hand out trophies to artists making music for Spotify’s algorithm, not people. In a landscape where success is more diverse than ever, from viral TikToks to vinyl cult followings, why are we still trying to crown one version of greatness? What If We Let Indie Be Indie Again? What if we stopped trying to turn independent music into a junior varsity version of the mainstream? What if we let indie artists evolve, experiment, and even fail, without needing to impress anyone but themselves and their listeners? We don’t need more trophies. We need more weird. More messy. More real . We need art that challenges and confuses and connects, even if it never fits inside an awards show intro montage. Because at the end of the day, the best music rarely wins awards. It wins hearts.

In a world obsessed with hustle culture and constant motion, Michael J Babb is here with a much-needed reminder: sometimes the best thing you can do is absolutely nothing. The Oklahoma-born, Nashville-rooted singer-songwriter dropped his latest single, "Doin' Nothin'," on April 18, 2025, and it’s already carving out a slow, sweet groove in listeners’ hearts. Inspired by a real-life exchange with a friend posted up on a park bench, the song captures the pure, underrated joy of pressing pause and letting life simply be . "I saw my buddy sitting there," Babb recalls with a laugh. "Asked him what he was up to, and he said 'Nothin.' Next day, same thing. I said, ‘That was what you were doing yesterday,’ and he just nodded, ‘Yep, and I didn’t get finished.’” It’s that laid-back philosophy — easygoing but profound — that Babb spins into a melodic reminder to breathe, laugh, and lean into the quiet moments we too often rush past. Musically, "Doin' Nothin'" floats on an easy rhythm and a breezy vocal delivery that feels like a Sunday afternoon distilled into song form. Babb’s playful tone and understated storytelling charm shine through, offering the kind of effortless authenticity that’s hard to fake. Known for his wide-ranging songwriting chops and international chart success across Norway, France, and beyond, Michael J Babb isn’t chasing trends or trying to reinvent the wheel. Instead, he sticks to what he does best: crafting honest, relatable songs that meet listeners right where they are — whether that’s chasing dreams or just kicking back on a bench, getting gloriously unfinished. If Babb’s music feels grounded, it’s because he is. Beyond his years of performing and songwriting, he’s spent over three decades working as a family physician, delivering babies, performing surgeries, and walking with people through every stage of life. That lived-in wisdom leaks into every lyric he writes, whether he’s singing about heartbreak, hope, or — in this case — the sacred art of slowing down. Pulling inspiration from legends like The Beatles, Dolly Parton, and The Rolling Stones while embracing modern influences like Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift, Babb’s style is as eclectic as his journey. "Doin' Nothin'" adds another layer to his catalogue, blending warmth, wit, and a quiet kind of wisdom that feels tailor-made for the times we’re living in. In an age where everything moves at breakneck speed, Michael J Babb’s "Doin' Nothin'"  feels like a breath of fresh air — a small, necessary rebellion against the myth that we have to be doing something  to be doing enough .

Photo credit: Michael Hanson Born from studio experimentation, Damien Musto 's newest single "Without You" showcases the artistic journey of a track that refused to remain static. The song, which began as a bare-bones composition, blossomed through a creative partnership with OURS frontman Jimmy Gnecco who lends his musical talents across multiple instruments. The track's foundation emerged during sessions with Kristy Chmura, whose own musical collective features Musto alongside Depeche Mode drummer Christian Eigner and producer Niko Stoessl. Road-tested during Musto's acoustic sets while touring with OURS, the polished studio version marries Musto's vocals and guitar work with Gnecco's rhythmic contributions on drums, bass, and additional acoustic guitar. Fans will soon experience "Without You" in multiple incarnations through Musto's forthcoming YouTube series "Live at Lucky Penny Studios." This community-focused platform will present both a full-band arrangement and an alternative interpretation featuring Midnight Monarch, complete with keyboard introductions and reimagined percussion. "Watching 'Without You' discover its unique voice across different versions has been remarkable," reflects Musto on the track's evolution.

Rising pop punk artist Giselle is stepping into the spotlight with her most personal and powerful release yet— “School’s Out,” a fiery anthem that confronts the dark reality of bullying while celebrating hard-earned freedom and resilience. Originally from Boston and raised in Buffalo, NY, Giselle’s journey to Los Angeles wasn’t just a relocation—it was a bold leap of faith. Since moving west at 21, she’s been grinding in the city’s music scene, performing at some of its most iconic venues, including The Hotel Cafe, The Mint, iHeart Radio, Whisky a Go Go, and Hotel Ziggy. With a multi-instrumentalist edge—she plays piano, drums, guitar, violin, and ukulele—Giselle’s not just a performer, she’s a creative force. With “School’s Out,” Giselle pulls from her own painful experiences to speak out on an issue that affects far too many: bullying. But this isn’t a ballad about defeat—this is a full-throttle, no-holds-barred pop punk statement of survival. From playgrounds to college campuses to toxic workplaces, the track confronts the lingering scars of cruelty and exclusion while turning the page to a new chapter of power and pride. “I felt called to share some of my story in this song and music video because sadly, bullying isn’t something that just stops when we become adults. It still happens in college, in the workplace, within our own families.” Driven by searing guitar riffs, punchy drums, and vocals that cut deep with emotion and conviction, “School’s Out” hits like a sonic liberation. It’s a song that screams for anyone who’s ever been underestimated, dismissed, or told they couldn’t make it—because Giselle did , and she’s using her voice to remind others that they can too. “I hope this song becomes an anthem for others who are going through or have gone through bullying. That when they finish listening, they feel a sense of victory and know they WILL prevail.” With raw honesty and punk attitude, Giselle isn’t just telling her story—she’s starting a movement. “School’s Out” is more than a song. It’s a reckoning. “School’s Out” is such a powerful anthem—what was the moment or memory that sparked the idea to turn your personal story into this song? Thank you so much!! Ironically enough, it’s always something I’ve wanted to talk about musically, but never have. What sparked it was this: I was looking at Peerspace to see sets, there was no particular reason, I was just being nosy. But then I saw the set (that you’ll see in the new music video) and it sparked a thought in my brain, “whoa! What if I write a song called School’s Out?” So I saved the space, opened my notes app, and wrote the lyrics for the song. It came to me so easily! Same with the melody and the pop punk concept!  Years of bullying helped craft this song. Of course, I don’t dive into all of the things that happened to me. This song just scratches the surface. But I knew it was something that could touch so many people. And I also felt it would be a beautiful way to pay tribute to my inner child.  You mention that bullying doesn’t just end after childhood. How do you think adult bullying shows up differently, and why is it important we talk about it? It definitely doesn’t, unfortunately. We see it in settings such as college, workplaces, in our own families, and sometimes even in “friend” groups. It takes shape in all those ways AND online. It’s so important we discuss these because I feel like, as adults, we still need help coming forward and speaking up when things like this happen to us. As an adult, it can feel more confusing in a way because we tend to think, “this doesn’t happen to adults.” But it does, and if we start discussing it more, I believe more people will feel confident to reach out for help and to speak up! The energy in this track is fierce—did writing and recording “School’s Out” feel like a form of release or healing for you? Thank you!! It most definitely did. It felt so empowering! You’ve played some iconic venues in L.A.—how has performing live helped shape your identity as an artist and storyteller? I’ve been so fortunate! I absolutely love performing. It makes my soul so happy and full. I’d definitely say it’s inspired me even more and shaped me into an even stronger artist and storyteller than I was before!  If someone listens to “School’s Out” while feeling like they’re at rock bottom, what do you hope they walk away with after hearing it? I truly hope that they feel a sense of encouragement from the song. I hope it reminds them just how badass they are and it lifts their spirit!

Photo by Laura Stanley A few years ago, crowdfunding felt like a revolution. Finally — a way for musicians to bypass the labels, the gatekeepers, the vultures in suits, and go straight to the people. It was marketed as power to the artist, direct-to-fan, community over contracts. Platforms like Kickstarter , Indiegogo, and Patreon promised a new model: one where musicians could fund their dream albums, tours, or videos through loyal fan support — no middlemen, no industry strings. But as we roll through 2025, the question is louder than ever: Is crowdfunding really helping musicians? Or has it become another emotional labor trap dressed in DIY freedom? Let’s unpack it. The Promise: Creative Control and Fan-Fueled Freedom At its best, crowdfunding still feels like a miracle. For artists who don’t fit the mold — genre-benders, niche icons, experimental producers — it offers a lifeline. You don’t need radio play. You don’t need Spotify editorial. You just need 300 people who believe in what you’re making and are willing to put their money where their hearts are. Some of the most beautiful indie projects in the last decade — from bedroom pop EPs to ambitious visual albums — were funded entirely by fans. The appeal is obvious: you keep ownership. You set the timeline. You build with  your audience instead of being told to chase “what’s trending.” And in an era where music streaming pays fractions of pennies, a single $25 pledge can mean more than 10,000 Spotify plays. The Pressure: Artists Become Marketers, Managers, and Middlemen Photo by cottonbro studio But the reality behind the curtain? Crowdfunding is work. A lot of it. And not always the kind of artists sign up for. Running a successful campaign means building hype, writing updates, filming video pitches, creating tiered reward systems, managing orders, printing merch, shipping perks, answering DMs, and sending thank-you notes, all before you’ve even written or recorded the damn song. You’re not just an artist. You’re a startup. A customer service rep. A fulfillment center. And if you miss a deadline or run into delays (which happens often in music), the goodwill you built can quickly turn into guilt, or worse, public backlash. The emotional toll of turning fans into backers can be quietly brutal. It blurs the line between community and consumer. And for marginalized or under-resourced artists who need  crowdfunding the most? That emotional labor often doubles. The Reality: A Tool — Not a Solution So, is crowdfunding helping musicians? Yes. But not in the utopian, equalizing way we once hoped. Crowdfunding is a tool. A powerful one. But it’s not a silver bullet. It helps musicians who already have something  — a small fanbase, a digital presence, a compelling story. For emerging artists with little reach, launching a campaign too early can feel like shouting into the void. Even when successful, crowdfunding rarely solves the bigger structural problems in the music industry: exploitative contracts, algorithmic gatekeeping, financial instability. It fills in the cracks — but the cracks are still there. The most successful campaigns usually come from artists who already had a loyal audience before  the campaign went live. In that sense, it’s more of a test  of existing support than a growth strategy. So, Should Artists Crowdfund in 2025? Photo by Artem Podrez Only if you’re prepared to treat it like a full-time campaign. Crowdfunding still works, but it’s a job. The money doesn’t fall from the sky. The fans don’t magically appear. And the platforms don’t protect you from burnout, delays, or the weird weight of asking for help in a world that often expects you to hustle in silence. But when done right, with clear goals, honest communication, and a tight community, it can still be one of the most rewarding paths in music. You own your work. You release on your terms. You answer to no one but your supporters. And in today’s landscape, that kind of autonomy is priceless. Crowdfunding is just one brick in the path artists are building — a path toward independence, ownership, and deeper connection. Use it if it fits your journey, but don’t let it define your worth. You’re not a product. You’re a creator. And your art deserves to exist, whether it’s funded by 1,000 fans, 10 strangers, or just yourself and a whole lot of late nights.

From the gritty heart of Cleveland’s rock scene emerges HeraCyra , the unapologetically bold project from Brian Teubl —a seasoned frontman with a deep-rooted passion for hard-hitting, emotionally charged music. With I AM , HeraCyra bursts onto the scene with a thunderous debut that’s as introspective as it is explosive, threading themes of identity, disillusionment, and inner rebellion through a dynamic blend of alternative rock, hard rock, and metal. Right from the get-go, the album announces its refusal to take itself too seriously. Opener “Hawk Tuah” cheekily riffs on viral internet fame, using satire and heavy riffage to critique our obsession with 15 seconds of social media clout. It’s raw, it’s loud, and it sets the tone for an album that doesn’t just comment on the world—it confronts it. Then comes “MYT,” a standout moment of emotional grit. With the repeated line “I’ll meet you there,” Brian captures the fragile resilience of someone wrestling with hardship but still clinging to hope. The track pulses with a melancholic urgency, balancing crushing guitars with heartfelt vulnerability. The album’s heartbeat, however, lies in its title track, “I Am.” Here, HeraCyra fully leans into its thematic core—alienation, self-acceptance, and defiance. Brian sings from the margins, embracing the discomfort of not fitting in and declaring, with growling conviction, that he won’t change to belong. It’s a cathartic anthem for anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider, wrapped in distorted guitars and relentless percussion. Social commentary sharpens with “DKW,” an angst-filled response to the chaos of today’s world. The chorus “I don’t know why” becomes a frustrated mantra, reflecting collective confusion and exhaustion. “Repent” digs even deeper, calling out hypocrisy cloaked in morality. Its pointed lyrics and ominous tone tackle those who hide dark intentions behind a façade of virtue, whether religious or otherwise. What makes I AM more than just another hard rock record is the sincerity that drives every track. Teubl's voice—both lyrically and vocally—commands attention, grounded in lived experience and an unwavering desire to connect. Whether he's poking fun, breaking down, or raging against the system, it’s always real. We’re drawn to music that says something, and I AM says plenty. It’s a reminder that rock music still has the power to challenge, to heal, and to raise a little hell. It doesn’t beg for approval. It demands your ears and dares you to feel something. "I AM" feels like both a personal manifesto and a societal critique—how did your own experiences shape the emotional highs and lows of the album, and was there a specific moment that sparked its creation? Originally, this was just going to be one song. That one song was the title track, "I Am." This song resonates with me the most because I'm writing from how I've felt in my life. I'm more of an introvert, and natural conversations do not come easily to me. Despite feeling left out and not fitting in, I realized that just be yourself, you'll be happier with yourself that you did. Tracks like “Repent” and “DKW” dive into some heavy social themes. As an artist, where do you draw the line between personal expression and cultural commentary, or do you even see a line at all? As an artist, I don't really see a line. I'm just writing what comes natural to me. It could be things on my mind that are bothersome and just need to get it out there. I don't really limit myself to a theme. The title track "I Am" touches on the struggle of not fitting in and finding strength in that. What advice would you give to someone who’s still learning to embrace their difference instead of hiding it? It's a struggle that I've battled most of my life. I kind of touched upon it earlier, but my advice is don't change who you are and then not feel good about yourself to fit in or be like someone else. It's tough, but eventually you may find someone who is similar and sees you as you. With your history fronting different bands, how does HeraCyra differ from your past projects, both sonically and in terms of your mindset as a songwriter and frontman? This project is a bit more dynamic, touching upon a little heavier side with songs like MYT, Hawk Tuah, and Repent. I wanted to bring some influences from bands like Soulfly and Alice in Chains. I'm also starting this band project solo with some guests here and there, but with the hopes of building it into a full, permanent band with others. You’ve said you hope people can “get lost in the music” and interpret it their own way. What’s one song on the album that surprised even you in how people connected with it, or one you’re especially curious to see how fans will interpret? I'm interested to see how they interpret the album in full, but I'd say "I Am" or "DKW," as those songs could hit home with people. What's next for you? I'm working on finishing up my second solo LP under my name. The first single should drop in late May, and the album should be out in September. I may get some gig opportunities this Summer as well. Follow me on my social media accounts for the latest.

Photo by lil artsy You’ve dropped the single. You’ve got the streams. Your followers are vibing. But if you’re not selling merch, you’re leaving money and fan connection on the table. The truth is, in 2025, music is only part of your brand. The other part lives in hoodies, stickers, posters, crop tops, vinyl, rolling trays, and whatever else your aesthetic demands. Fans don’t just want to listen — they want to represent. And if you're doing it right, your merch becomes both a billboard and a conversation starter. The best part? You don’t need to hire a web developer or ship things from your living room. There are platforms built specifically for artists, creators, and indie brands that make it easy to launch and scale your merch line without turning into a warehouse manager. Here’s a breakdown of the best online platforms for selling your merch — from fully automated print-on-demand sites to hands-on storefronts that give you full control. Shopify: The Powerhouse for Artists Who Want Full Control If you’re serious about turning your merch into a legit revenue stream, Shopify is the gold standard. It’s not just an e-commerce platform — it’s a customizable storefront that lets you own your branding from top to bottom. You can connect it with print-on-demand services like Printful or SPOD for easy fulfillment, or go fully DIY if you want to stock, pack, and ship on your own. With thousands of apps, abandoned cart emails, discount code generators, and easy mobile optimization, Shopify is perfect for artists ready to grow beyond just “selling a few tees.” Yes, it comes with a monthly fee, but what you get in return is a professional-looking store you can scale as your audience grows. Bandcamp: Built for Musicians, Made for Merch Bandcamp is still one of the most artist-friendly platforms out there — and it’s not just about digital music. You can sell physical merch directly through your artist profile, and the process is simple, clean, and trustworthy. Fans already know and love Bandcamp for its “pay what you want” pricing and transparent support of artists, which makes it a natural fit for limited-run merch drops and physical releases like vinyl, tapes, or shirts bundled with downloads. If you’re already distributing music through Bandcamp, adding merch is a no-brainer — and it’s a great way to tap into fans who want  to spend more than $1.29 per track. Big Cartel: Indie, Simple, and Surprisingly Stylish For indie artists and small teams, Big Cartel hits the sweet spot between ease and customization. It’s a lightweight e-commerce platform designed specifically for creatives who want a good-looking online store without getting lost in technical setup. You can list up to five products for free, or upgrade to a paid plan if your merch line expands. It’s ideal for artists who want to test the waters with a small collection of shirts, pins, or zines, without committing to a larger monthly fee. Plus, its design templates are clean, modern, and don’t scream “template.” Printful: No Inventory, No Stress If you don’t want to touch a single T-shirt, Printful is your best friend. This print-on-demand platform integrates seamlessly with Shopify, Etsy, and other storefronts, letting you sell custom merch without ever handling the product yourself. You upload your designs, choose your items (tees, hats, hoodies, phone cases — you name it), and when someone orders, Printful prints and ships it for you. The quality is solid, shipping is global, and you keep the profit margin you set. It’s a set-it-and-forget-it solution perfect for artists who want to focus on music, not logistics. Etsy: Where Niche Merch Finds Its People Etsy isn’t just for handmade candles and boho jewelry anymore. It’s become a surprisingly powerful platform for artists selling unique, fan-first merch. If your vibe is vintage-inspired, alternative, or aesthetic-driven, Etsy gives you access to a built-in audience already looking to buy from independent creators. It’s especially great for limited-edition items, DIY drops, or merch that leans into your personal style — think handmade lyric books, custom patches, or experimental designs. While Etsy takes a small cut, you get a ton of organic traffic and the chance to be discovered by fans outside your usual feed. Final Thoughts: Merch Is More Than Merch Photo by MART PRODUCTION In today’s music economy, merch isn’t just about making money — it’s about building culture. It’s what fans wear to your shows, post on TikTok, and tag you in when they’re out living their lives. The right platform can turn a single T-shirt into a movement, a moment, or a full-on lifestyle brand. Whether you’re starting with one graphic tee or ready to launch a full collection, the tools are here. What matters is showing up, building something that feels true to your sound and aesthetic, and giving your audience something real to rep.